


Superstition

by Ekatarinabeisel76



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Breakfast, Community: 100_prompts, Fluff, M/M, Morning After, Superstition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ekatarinabeisel76/pseuds/Ekatarinabeisel76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not neccessarily a sequel to Funeral, but it can be if you want it to be. <br/>Without meaning to, Danny introduces Chin to a lot of eurpopean superstitions over breakast on an otherwise unasuming and typical morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Superstition

**Author's Note:**

> for #011 Superstiton. Also, all of these superstitions are ones in my own house, so I'm not trying to monopolize on anyone's culture here - just using what I know.

#011 Superstition

Danny awoke in a patch of warm sunlight that spilled through the window pane uninhibited by blinds or curtains, since he had shoved both aside the morning before and hadn’t possessed the presence of mind to close them before crawling into bed with Chin last night. He stretched, bathing in the warmth radiating from the window and the body stretched out beside him on the bed. He rolled over, trying to slip out of bed without waking his completely still partner. A muscular arm snaked around his chest before he could connect even one foot with the floor however, and pulled him back into a warm, solid, chest.

“Aloha Kakahiaka.” Chin said against his neck, pressing a quick, wet kiss over Danny’s fluttering pulse.

“Good Morning to you too.” he replied, leaning back against his lover.

“What time is it?” Chin asked, still sleepy and not exactly eager to get out of bed, but they did have work to do.

“Danny called a department day off in lieu of our success with that Triad drug bust and Meka’s murder investigation.”

Chin ran the tips of fingers up and down Danny’s abdomen slowly, taking in this new information with quiet, calm, enthusiasm.

“So what you’re saying is; we have a day all to ourselves? No drug busts or serial murders? No piles of paperwork and backorders?”

“No injuries or bodily harm caused directly or indirectly by my psychotic partner.” Danny added dreamily. Chin laughed against Danny’s neck, and sat up in bed.

“Breakfast?” he asked. Danny smiled, and slid his feet off the bed and onto the bedroom floor.

“You go ahead and get in the shower, I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you get out.” He opened a drawer and tossed a pair of sweats to Chin before retrieving a pair for himself, and pulled them on hurriedly. The other man stood silently at the doorway to the single bathroom, taking in the view with a small spark of admiration.

“It can wait.” Chin said, coming up behind Danny and pulling him into a kiss. When he pulled away he added in a whisper, “I’d rather keep watching you.”

Danny was more than a fair hand with a skillet, Chin found as he observed the detective flit about the small kitchen between the fridge, the sink-side countertop, and the stove. A kettle was heating on the back burner, and sausages were frying up in a cast iron skillet on a larger one, along with toast. Danny scooted the toast and sausages out of the skillet and divided them up between two plates before cracking eggs against the side of the cast iron.

As the eggs began to sizzle under the heat, Danny began to hum a little tune under his breath. Chin started to whistle in time to Danny’s piece, but stopped when he noticed a slight falter in Danny’s smile. To cover, Danny asked, “How do you want your eggs?”

“Scrambled.” Chin replied, “If you can do that.” he challenged the other man, raising one eyebrow.

“If I can do that...” Danny muttered good naturedly, “If I can scramble eggs. Whoo, you are cruisin’ for a bruisin’ Kelly.” He looked up after depositing the eggs, still steaming hot, onto the two plates he had set out beside the butter and jam. “If I was more like the women in my family you might have a knife in your chest right now.” Chin laughed, placing a peck on Danny’s cheek as he took the plates to the table on the balcony.

“You want tea or coffee?” Danny called back from the kitchen over the shrill whistle of the kettle.

“Depends, what kind of tea do you have?” Chin retorted cheekily.

“Are you wedded to bagged tea?” Danny asked tentatively.

“Absolutely not.” Chin replied.

“Be still my beating heart.” Danny said as he searched through the cabinet above the stove. “We’ve got Earl Grey Breakfast, orange spice, and chamomile in bags, and loose-leaf green, fruit, and white.”

“A man after my own heart.” Chin replied, pausing to give the decision more thought. Finally, he called back, “May as well start with green.”

Danny came out onto the tiny balcony a few moments later, laden with two cups of tea, a butter dish, sugar packets, a salt shaker, and jam. Chin whistled, half in awe and half in experiment, Sure enough, Danny didn’t falter this time, just continued to place his burdens on the small outdoor table before sitting down across from Chin. Except that he’d forgotten that the salt shaker was so close to him when he set his hand down on the surface of the table.

He cursed softly in some language (most definitely not English) as the shaker clattered to lay flat on the table. And then he did the strangest thing that Chin had ever seen; Danny pinched the salt between his thumb and forefinger, and threw it over his shoulder. The tiny white crystals floated down through the air and landed on the concrete below the balcony, and Chin stared at the blonde in confused disbelief.

Danny looked up at him, wondering why he wasn't eating, and then realized what Chin was wondering about. He hadn't even realized that he had done it; it was just so ingrained in him from his youth in a deeply catholic and superstitious house.

“Oh right. See, My Mom was Italian and my Dad was half Irish and half Russian. Mama did all of the cooking of course, since we were traditional and Dad pulled swing shift at a car factory on top of being a deacon at our church. Whenever she or Nona, my grandma, would spill salt, they would throw it over their shoulder.” Chin nodded, but he still didn’t understand.

“Why though?” he asked.

“Well, Nona and Mama always said that it was because back in biblical times, when salt was currency, it was an offense to spill it, so you’d throw it over your shoulder to ward off bad spirits.” Danny paused, deciding if he really wanted to share the rest of the story with Chin. When he looked up, prepared to pass the tale off as finished, the other man fixed him with a pointed look.

“I’m guessing that Babyshka had a different story?”

Danny looked at him with surprise, quite clearly taken aback by his familiarity with Russian family nouns.

“Kind of, she said you threw it over your left shoulder and turned your head to spit three times, because the devil was always on your left. But she always had bread and salt in the main entrance to the house whenever we had company over too.” he paused suddenly. “God I miss that crazy old lady. Grandpa, had a completely different story though; he said you threw it over your shoulder to give it to the faeries; since you couldn’t use it you might as well give it to the small folk.”

Chin nodded slowly, and Danny waited with baited breath for some sort of dismissive joke or a laugh. Neither came, and instead Chin asked, “What about the whistling?”

“Huh?” Danny asked, not sure if he had heard him correctly.

“When I started whistling inside it threw you off, but when I did it outside it didn’t bother you at all. Why?”

Danny’s eyes widened. He chuckled and answered, “I’d forgotten about that one after Babyshka died. Whistling inside is like calling the devil, inviting him into your home even. She used to rap my cousins over the knuckles with one of her wooden spoons if she caught them doing it.”

“We have something similar in Hawaii; you’re not supposed to whistle after dark, and especially not in graveyards. It calls ancient evil warrior spirits to you - Nightmarchers.” Danny nodded, smiling in appreciation for the fact that at least Chin wouldn’t think he was crazy.

But then Chin began to laugh inexplicably, and in answer to Danny’s quizzical and slightly concerned expression, he said, “For someone who hates Hawaii, you seem to belong here. The Haoles think the Nightmarchers are silly bedtime stories we tell our children to make them behave, but for you, the devil really is behind you and trying to get into your home.”

“Maybe.” Danny said. “I don’t think I hate Hawaii quite as much now though.” he said, smiling at Chin as they each took a sip of tea from their cups. “It’s growing on me.”

“Good.” Chin answered, setting his tea cup down gently on the table and stacking sausage on top of scrambled egg on his fork. “Because I don’t think Steve can handle breaking in another replacement.”

“I’m not sure anyone would want to replace us. Have you noticed that it’s the one pile getting smaller?”


End file.
